While I Breathe: The Veiðimenn Mob, Book One

Nine

Across town, David groaned as he poured over the files of random kids who were either surrendered or taken by the system to be wards of the government over the last eight years. He’d whittled the list down to a select few, but he kept circling back to was the last case he worked. Having taken some time off to deal with the search, his mind kept going back to the way that the teen said his name.

Frowning, David downed his coffee. “What am I missing? What am I not seeing?”

The shrill ring of his cell phone made him pale. There was no mistaking the warning siren all the high-rankers of the mob used. He knew exactly who was calling. Steeling his nerves, he picked up the phone and slid the button across. “Sir?”

“Report,” Ross snapped. “Boss Hans hasn’t heard from you in a while, and he wants to know you’re not defecting.”

David shuddered. “Absolutely not, Master Ross. I swear I won’t run. I know what happens to betrayers, Sir.”

“Good,” Ross snarled. “Start keeping your weekly check-in’s or I’m paying you a personal visit to finish what I started when we found you.”

Swallowing the tight lump in his throat, David nodded stiffly. “Yes, Sir. I understand. I promise to call soon with an update.”

“You better not disappoint us, David. The Veiðimenn don’t play,” Ross said in a clipped tone before cancelling the call.

Glaring at the files, David groaned in frustration. He knew that there was going to be hell to pay if he didn’t get the job finished. Letting out a ragged breath, he turned on the kettle for another cup of coffee. Winter was coming to an end, and he quickly running out of time. “s**t. This is going to cost me my life if I’m not fast enough.”

He looked down at the name on the paper, noting that it was Calim Hanson’s information. When he met the boy, there was the distinct feeling that they had already crossed paths once before. An even deeper feeling that he should not have been so quick to dismiss the way the teen pronounced his name. Sounding out the way the teen said it, his eyes widened as he realized the truth: the original case worker had misspelled the boys name.

It was highly likely that they simply wrote it down they way they thought it was spelled rather than looking it up. It would also explain why the teen was so dismissive and jaded.

Fear lanced him as he sat shaking in his chair. He should have caught it, but the stress he’d been under made him falter. If the Boss found out that he’d messed up this horribly, it would be useless to even try begging for any sort of mercy. Hans wouldn’t even entertain the idea.

“Oh no,” he whispered to the shadows of his tiny apartment. “No. No, no, no. Please tell me I didn’t.”

Writing out the name of the kid he was searching for, he compared it to the one on the file. Pale and shaking, David whimpered. Raking a hand through his hair, he pleaded with his favourite Saint to watch over the teen. If he was right in his assumption of the truth, he’d already placed the kid with one of Hans’ sworn enemies.

Getting up, he fixed himself another coffee. Finishing the first cup, he poured himself a second and downed that one, too. His stomach growled, bringing his attention to the fact that he had not eaten in almost twenty-four hours. Pulling up the search engine on his phone, he looked up the closest stores. Simple, discreet places in the area that he could pop into and grab a few things to tie him over.

As he pulled on his coat, he shook his head. “I don’t know what I’m going to do, Kid. I’ll come for you soon, I swear. Just hold on a little longer.”

“Everything all right, young man?” An older woman’s voice reached his ears, and he turned to see one of his neighbours.

He blinked, his mind working to think of a viable reason as to why he would be talking to himself. “Uh, yeah. I’m just trying to decompress. Working with kids is harder than I thought it would be, and the emotional backlash is way worse.”

“Oh, are you a Social Worker?” She asked.

David nodded, “Yeah.”

“I’m retired myself, but the system needs an overhaul. The stress was why I left, too. It ain’t right how most of them kids get treated. Some don’t even need to be in the system, but they were taken over one rumour or another that was never proven. Them poor parents,” the woman lamented.

He knew of the cases she was talking about. He’d stepped in on more than one occasion up in Ontario to stop his work partner from throwing their weight around. “Hey, um, what’s the closest grocery store? I didn’t have time to really grab much except frozen TV dinners and take-out since I got here.”

“That’s alright, dear. There’s a supermarket on the next street over,” she told him. Unlocking her apartment, she left him standing alone in the hallway as he locked up and walked out of the building.

******

Three thousand kilometers away, Ross turned to his friend. “He’s on edge. Should we worry?”

Shaking his head, Hans said, “Leave him be, Ross. We got bigger fish to fry at the moment. My mother just called to let me know my father just passed. The two-week mourning period has begun, and I need to be there for the rest of the family.”

Paling, Ross nodded. He knew that Hans was close to his father, even though they butt heads more often than not. He got to his feet, moving to the mini bar in the Don’s apartment. His heart was breaking for the women he’d come to know as family over the last thirteen years. “Jesus, that’s not good. How are Mama Nadia and Aunt Katrin taking the news?”

“Poorly, as expected. Book us a return flight and give David a two-week extension on his task,” Hans replied as he accepted a Gin and juice from Ross. “Not because he deserves it, but because we have a priority to the Elders of our mob. If he’s hot on the trail and following up with an investigation so important that he forgets to call, then it means he’s actually doing the job he was trained for.”

Smirking, Ross, breathed a laugh. “Understood. I’ll make the arrangements right away, Sir.”

Hans’ blond hair had grown out a little, falling over one eye as he gazed out the window at the two cars that pulled up to the Towers. He watched Damien get out, stepping aside to helped his wife to her feet. His two younger boys got out of the rear while their father grabbed their sister from her seat. His older twins were likely working at Everett Holdings, cluing up what was left of their workday.

The other car was Xander, who wasn’t in a steady relationship but still enjoyed playing the field like back in their teen years. He didn’t have an heir, and that worried Hans a little more than he thought it would. It was Xander’s life, but who would he choose to take over when he the vacated the seat for the Columbians? It was a question that Hans worried over several times in the last little while. Then again, knowing Xander, he wouldn’t change his ways ever. Even in the face of death, his best friend was consistent in personality if nothing else.

Hans looked over at Robert. The boy was fourteen now, and he started training just a few years ago. Already, he was more like his Uncle than his father, but it was something that Hans enjoyed. Ross had been raising the boy well in place of his retired brother, and it was good to see how the man drilled the mob and societies expectations into the teen. “Robert, you fall under my protection, so take your pick. You have the choice to go spend time with your family until we return, or come to Iceland and learn some new things.”

“Um…”

“Don’t make the Godfather of our mob wait, Kid. When he asks a question, you answer,” Ross grunted.

His eyes wide, Robert licked his lips. Lowering his eyes, he nodded, “I know, Uncle Ross. Boss Hans, I’d like to go with my parents for a while since the choice was mine. Should I get ready now?”

Raising a dark mahogany brow, Ross gave his nephew a look that told him not to argue. Thinking better of the snide remark he was going to say, Robert bolted to the apartment he and Ross shared.

******

David’s relief was immediate as the man he called Master Ross called him back only to advise him that there was a family emergency in Iceland. He’d been given an extra three weeks to complete his task, and the relief made his exhaustion catch up with him. Putting his supper dishes in the sink, he groaned as he walked to the bedroom and collapsed on the bed. Too tired to keep his eyes open, he sighed as sleep overtook him.

The next morning, he sat down with the papers and his laptop to get back to work. Knowing now that he screwed up, he knew that he didn’t have much time before things went far south for him. “One can only pray that the Boss will grant mercy on me for this. St. Nicholas, patron saint of all children, please send an angel to guard him until I can pull him out.”